


What the Future Holds

by RandomnonsenseDA (B1nary_S0lo)



Series: Aylwen Lavellan [19]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullavellan Week, F/M, Fluff, Hiking, Inquisition Disbanded, Loss of Limbs, Plans For The Future, Post-Trespasser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 19:53:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12196311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B1nary_S0lo/pseuds/RandomnonsenseDA
Summary: On a hike, Cullen and Aylwen reflect on the recent past and discuss the future.





	What the Future Holds

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Cullavellan Week 2017, Day 7- What the Future Holds

Cullen paused to wait for Aylwen on the steep uphill trail. Wary, he watched her pick her way over rocks and tree roots toward him. He stood ready, prepared to run and catch her if she stumbled or fell.

But there was no need. Occasionally she overbalanced, forgetting, as she often did, about her missing arm, but she managed to catch herself each time, grabbing on to nearby tree branches or wildly waving her stump to restore her center of gravity.

The sight filled Cullen with a confusing mixture of grief and pride. When they’d climbed this hill two years before, Aylwen had been so agile. The terrain here was rough, steep enough to require simple rock climbing in some spots, but she’d raced ahead of him, practically jumping from boulder to boulder in her rush to the peak. He’d had to remind her to slow down so he could keep up. Now, it was he who had to slow down for her.

And yet what a change from just a few months before, when even the simplest of tasks had been a challenge for her. The fact that she could manage this climb at all, and such a short time after the loss of her arm, felt like a miracle.

Now, she pulled herself up the remainder of the slope with the help of some loose vines. When she was a few feet away, she met his eyes and grinned. He offered his hand to her, and she took it, letting him pull her the rest of the way up the steep hill.

“I thought you preferred to do these things on your own,” he said. She kept her hand in his as she found her balance.

“I don’t mind a little help from time to time,” she said. She righted herself and stepped nearer to him, pulling his arm around her waist. “Especially when my helper is particularly handsome.”

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her, relieved by her cheerfulness. These last few months had been difficult for her, emotionally as well as physically, and there had been days when he’d wondered if she would ever be her old self again. It was a blessing beyond measure to be here with her, to kiss her without a care in the world.

They came apart a few moments later, and he reached once more for her hand. They continued up the path together.

“Don’t you love it here, Cullen?” Aylwen said, swinging his arm as she used her stump to gesture at the landscape around them. “Isn’t this hill the most beautiful place in the Hinterlands?”

Cullen glanced around, taking in the thick foliage, the dappled sunlight, and the faint calls of birds, before turning back to her.

“I love the view, but I don’t love the climb,” he said.

Aylwen rolled her eyes in mock frustration. “Practical as always,” she said. “The climb, my love,  _makes_  the view.”

Cullen grinned wryly. “If you say so, dear.”

She squeezed his hand again, and they fell into thoughtful silence, their footsteps crunching on the forest floor. This part of the trail was level, though he knew it would grow steep again before they reached the top, and Cullen relished the sudden calm and quiet.

They had spent the last few weeks visiting his family in South Reach, taking advantage of Aylwen’s recovery. Now they were on their way back to Skyhold, where they would at last begin the process of officially dismantling the Inquisition. It would take months of work to move their people and supplies out of the fortress. Months which would also see them hunting for any sign of Solas. Who could say when they would next have time for themselves?

“Cullen?”

Aylwen’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. He looked to her.

“I was just thinking,” she said. “What do you want to do after everything’s over? After the Inquisition disbands? After we stop Solas?”

Cullen frowned. The path was growing steeper ahead of them, giving way to rockier terrain. He gripped her hand more tightly.

“I would like,” he said, “to do something for Templars who’ve given up Lyrium.”

A large boulder lay ahead, so Cullen helped Aylwen scramble atop it. She steadied herself, reaching for his hand to pull him up after her. Atop the boulder she turned toward him, bringing his hand to her heart.

“Oh, Cullen,” she said. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

He reddened. “You think so?” Truthfully, he had only the vaguest notion of what he’d like to do to help, no idea how to put it into practice, but hearing the enthusiasm in her voice gave him new confidence in the plan. She leaned closer.

“I do,” she said. “You would be perfect at it.”

He grinned, and leaned in to kiss her nose. She giggled and pulled back.

“Help me get down first, silly man,” she said.

“Fine,” he said, still smirking.

She held his hand and he helped her down to the opposite side of the path. Once she was safely on the ground he followed her. A bit more scrambling over rocks, and then the top of the hill was in sight, nothing but a grassy slope left to traverse. Once again, they fell into step. The chill wind bit at their cheeks.

“What about you?” Cullen said, looking over at her. Her short, curly hair half covered her face, buoyed by the wind. “What do you want to do, after it’s all over?”

She glanced at him, and to his surprise she reddened as well.

“I want to write about the Dalish,” she said. Her voice was almost lost in the wind.

“Oh,” Cullen said. “You’ve never mentioned that before.”

They reached the crest of the hill and were greeted by the sight of a grassy green meadow dotted with yellow flowers. Beyond it lay the lush fields and forests of the Hinterlands, spreading like a quilt toward the horizon. They came to a stop, and Aylwen gazed at the sight as she spoke.

“I’ve been thinking about it for awhile now,” she said. “There’s so much literature  _about_ my people, but nothing  _by_  us. And a lot of the existing literature is inaccurate.” She sighed. “You should _see_  the Dalish history section of the Orlesian Royal Library.”

She tossed her hair out of her eyes, turning to look at him again. “I’d like to record some of our legends and customs. Write them down before they’re forgotten.”

She frowned suddenly, turning her gaze back to the ground, and he could well imagine what she must have been thinking. Her final encounter with Solas had shaken her to the core, and not just because of her arm. What would it be like, he wondered, to find out that everything you believed in was a lie?

Moving nearer, he put his arm around her.

“They won’t be forgotten,” he said. He squeezed her shoulder. “Not with such a skilled historian writing about them.”

She looked up at him, her eyes bright. “Do you really think I can do it?”

“Of course,” he said. “You can do anything.” He nudged her with his hip. “Even redeem Solas, if that’s what you really want.”

She frowned, but only for a moment. With a sigh she leaned into him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. Her smile was a child’s—completely safe and content. He drew her closer and she shut her eyes.

“Whatever the future holds,” she said sleepily. “I’m glad you’ll be there with me.”

He kissed the top of her head.

“No matter what.”


End file.
